Whacked
by Angsty Elf Twins
Summary: ON HIATUS From the mosh pit to Middle Earth...how the bloody flark did two sisters end up like this! There's got to be some compensation for getting whacked so rudely into this place!
1. Prologue Part 1

**Alright then everybody! I'm Ariel, and there's Ally -points to her- and here we are, doing our first collab fan fic, Whacked! It's rated M for serious language and then later on some rather romantic things...heeheehee! Not THAT romantic, but Maya and Ari certainly have perverted minds! So anyway, all Ari chapters are written by Ally, and all Maya chaps are written by me. Mwuahaha, read and enjoy everyone!  
Ariel and Ally **

P.S. Ally says 'Review! But be warned: Flames will only be used to make veggie burgers!' And you know what? IT'S TRUE, SO NYAHA!

* * *

A/N: I don't own Middle Earth or any of its inhabitants, but I do own Leggy! Ok, actually I don't, he's Tolkien's too. But Ari is mine. Based off me, so she's mine. NYAH!

**Prologue Part 1  
Ari's POV **

Evanescence kicks ass. Did you know that? I don't know if you did, because I don't even know who the hell I'm talking to, but you better be listening, or I shall sic my kitty of doom on you!

No, wait. I can't. My kitty of doom is at my dad's house. Back in Nebraska. Which I may never see again. Dammit. I never thought I'd say that about Nebraska, the worst place ever, a place filled with nothing but rednecks and cows. For a vegetarian punk, it's damn near hell. But anyway, I shall quit wishing I was back in California or even back in dumb old Nebraska, because I like where I am! There's males! With pointy ears! And they're damn hot too.

So, anyway. Back to my story. Evanescence kicks ass. It really does. Even ask my twin, Blondie. Ok, she's not really my twin, she's a year older. And her name isn't really Blondie. It's Maya. But who's being technical? She's closer to me than any of our siblings, our younger sister, Megan or our younger brothers, Danny and Brenton. And she's a blonde. Anyone who knows her knows this. Oh, yes.

Dammit, why do I keep getting sidetracked? Anyway. For the third time: Evanescence kicks ass! Surprisingly, my opinion of them hasn't been changed, even though it was an Evanescence concert that started the madness.

Lemme start from the beginning. Ya see, Blondie and I are both addicted to Evanescence, and we'd finally saved enough money to go to an Evanescence concert. We were psyched. The day of the concert didn't come fast enough. But when it did, I was ready and I gotta say, I looked awesome. I had shopped forever for the perfect outfit, and found it: A black mini-skirt with an orange tank top that said Los Angeles County Jail in huge black letters with fishnet armlets and stockings and my shit stomping boots, or as our mom likes to call them, my FMBs. Don't ask. No, really. You don't want to know. But just in case you do, I'll tell you anyway. Our mom has a sick mind, which is probably where Blondie and I got ours. The boots are knee-length black fake leather with a 4 inch stiletto heel, and they apparently reminded Mom of hooker boots. So she made up the nickname of "Fuck Me Boots." It stuck, but we had to shorten it to FMBs so we didn't scar the ickle kiddie-kins for life. Anyway, back to my kick-ass appearance. And I'm not normally this self absorbed, but whatever. I'd finally managed to tame my wild mane of black-streaked blonde curls (or frizzies, actually, but still) into a resemblance of straight. I was thrilled.

So, finally, we got to the concert and were wowed. It was LOUD. And Evanescence sounds so awesome in concert, CDs can't even compare. So, I had the brilliant idea of going into the mosh pit. Yeah, I know, dumbass idea, but hey—I'd just turned 22, and Blondie had just turned 23, so we were gonna take advantage of our drinking abilities. Besides, when the music is pumping, the drums and your heartbeat are the same thing, so my heart was sped up, decreasing oxygen flow to my already minimal brain or some scientifical shit like that, I wouldn't know, Blondie and I both failed high school science. So we went into the mosh pit and partied it out. Until some drunk dumbass decided to throw his beer bottle into the air. Well, obviously, when you're drunk, your coordination isn't the best. The bottle clocked me square on the head. And it was one of those fucking hard glass bottles. Oh yeah, it was night-night time for Ari.

I don't know what happened to Blondie, or if we're dead, or how the hell we got here, but I woke up, and it was dark. And I had one helluva headache. I was ready to damn the president for allowing dumbasses like me to drink. Cause my head hurt like a bloody mother. Then I remembered. The concert. Blondie. Glass hurtling down on my head. Ouch. But I had more things to worry about than a headache induced by a shitload of drinking and being smacked by a beer bottle. Like figuring out where the hell I was, if I was alive, and where the fuck my sister was. "Blondie?" I called into the darkness. No answer. _Shit…Mom's gonna kick my ass!_ I thought. Well, I didn't want that to happen, so I decided to use her real name in my authority voice of doom, which is very scary, even though I'm the younger one. "Maya Katrine Lee!" I yelled out, getting an answer this time. Well, if "Bloody fucking mother!" counts as an answer. Well, one problem was solved. I knew where she was, as I'd just stood up with great difficulty, and…Tripped over her. I'm not the most graceful person in the world. Well, except on the ice, I'd been skating for 18 years. But anyways, I'm not writing about my amazing ice skating skills. But yeah, I tripped over my own sister, which explains why she cussed her brains out. A hangover doesn't make Blondie the most pleasant person in the world, in fact, it makes her speak like more of a drunken sailor than she already did.

"What he hell is going on?" I demanded. Hey, she was older, and besides, she claimed to be the smarter one, even though we were in the same grade and took the same classes. "I don't know, and can you get your fat ass off me, please?" she said irritably. "I have a helluva headache, and fucked up my ankle." I had little sympathy, something normal for me, but made even more clear because of the fact that my head hurt like a mother. "Yeah, well, try getting knocked over the head with a fucking Budweiser bottle. Then see how your head feels," I muttered back. "Anyway, where the hell are we, and what happened? This is NOT the mosh pit, dammit! I didn't even get to see the rest of the concert. I WANT A REFUND, GODDAMNIT!"

At this, Blondie rolled her eyes and said: "Just for the record, I didn't' get to see the rest of the concert either. After Captain Fuckhead threw a bottle at your skull, I knocked his lights out. Bad move…his chum was PISSED. And considering he was like seven fucking feet tall, he had no trouble knocking me out. Mother fucker."

I nodded as my puny brain took in this information. "Wonder where the hell we are. And if I don't get home in time for that skating competition, I swear to God I'll—" I didn't get to finish my rant, because I stopped mid-sentence as a sound approached us. "That sounds like horses. Headed for us. They're horses, and they're headed for us! SHIT!" Apparently, the people or things or whatever the fuck was riding on the horses heard this, because I heard someone talking in a foreign language that sounded almost like the Elvish from Lord of the Rings. But that was impossible. Lord of the Rings books were fiction. They were probably just speaking Swedish or some shit like that, and probably calling me either the equivalent of 'dumbass' or 'bar-room whore' because of my language. But if they were speaking Swedish, how did they understand my slurred, hungover English? Whatever, all this thinking was making my poor blonde and black head hurt even more. The sound of the horses' hooves ceased and I heard light footsteps, almost too light and graceful to be human, coming toward me. I opened my eyes, and was staring into heaven in a human form. Or not human, because the guy looking down at me with concerned blue eyes was too damned hot to be human. Plus he had pointy ears. Which is strange. But whatever. He was hot!

So, the pointy dude started talking to me in the funky Swedish, and all I could say was "What the fuck?" That seemed to do it, because the damn hot pointy guy switched to English. "Who are you? You do not look well, you should not be alone in this forest." Wow, his voice was as sexy as he was! DAMN. But it wasn't enough to soothe poor, injured, hysterical little me. "No shit, Sherlock. I SHOULD be in the mosh pit, getting booze and headbanging along to Evanescence, not being in some fucking forest in God-knows-where. Oh yeah, and I'm Ariadne. But call me that and feel my bitchy wrath. Anyone who doesn't want to feel my wrath calls me Ari." Damn, how's that for flirtatious and approachable? But I didn't care, my head throbbed like a bloody mother.

Just then, another dude got off his horse. He didn't have pointy ears, but he was still sexy. He walked over to the pointy dude and put a hand on his shoulder. So they were gay? Damn it all to fucking hell and back! Or maybe they're not, I hope not, because I would be missing out on some damn hot elfy dude or also damn hot mortal dude. Anyway, the dark-haired non-pointy guy spoke quietly, in English, much to the relief of my poor, battered brain. "What is booze and mosh pits and why were you banging your heads? 'Tis no wonder your head is black and blue. And what is Evanescence?"

Obviously, this guy was one of those computer people who like never saw sunlight. But his skin was tan. Oh, the joys of tanning beds. "Uh, that's one I can't answer because my head hurts like a mother fucker because that dumbass chucked a beer bottle at my poor skull. Fucker," I muttered, before looking at Blondie, who was holding her ankle, and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," repetitively under her breath, but I could almost see the wheels in her brain turning. She was thinking. That was good. Because I sure as hell wasn't.

The blonde dude spoke just when the other guy was about to say something. "Why do you speak in such a way? And why are you dressed in such a fashion?" I looked at him blankly for a minute, then remembered what I was wearing, and also that I was laying on the ground. In a mini-skirt. Shit, I'd probably just flashed everyone within 5 miles. And my shirt advertised that I was a crime just waiting to happen, and I realized that the two were staring at me. "Because I can. And why are you looking at me like that?" _Pervs…._I thought as the pointy blonde guy talked again. "We are not accustomed to seeing females dressed in such a way," he said, and was that a hint of embarrassment I heard in his voice? He was blushing! HA!

"Wait a second. Who the hell are you two bloody wankers and why do you care who I am?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at them in my best 'You will feel my bitchy wrath shortly' stare. Neither of them appeared fazed. Dammit. The dark haired guy spoke for both of them. His voice was nowhere near as sexy and silky as the pointy guy, but still, he was pretty damn hot. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and this is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood."

Even my dumbass brain figured that out. I scooted over toward my fallen sister and said urgently: "Dude. We like got whacked into Tolkien-land!"


	2. Prologue Part 2

**Prologue Part 2  
Maya's POV**

You know, the people in mosh pits aren't very nice. Or very intelligent. A prime example? Some dumbass wanker chucked a beer bottle at my sister's head! Naturally, I punched the guy smack in the nose, hopefully shoving fragments of bone into his brain and killing his sorry ass. Because stupid ass fuckers like that deserve to die, dammit!

I bet you're wondering what the hell I'm talking about aren't you? So I'll explain, hold your horses dammit!

So my sister -Ari- and I finally saved some cash and got to go to an Evanescence concert. Damn fucking awesome! And of course I dressed accordingly: tight black leather pants and a matching black corset sort of shirt, that looked seriously fucking goth. Which is the way I like things. To top it off, I had fishnet armlets like Ari's. It's our sig thing I suppose, because we just rock like that.

Except for our style of clothes, Ari and I don't really look anything alike. She's shorter and has a more athletic build, but that's because she does a fuckload of sports. Don't mess with her, she'll kick your ass. Actually, so will I. But I only do track, softball, and karate. I tried learning to figure skate, but I always ended up going splat or getting frustrated at my twirly sister. So I'd just flip her off and start speed skating, which is MY thing! She can look all skate-ful and shit, but try and out-skate me and you will lose.

ANYWAY! She's shorter and has more of an athletic build, while I'm tall, fucking skinnier than a popsicle and yet I have the curves of a whore. DAMN IT! I hate having a figure. Makes me look like a fucking prostitute. But then again, I could turn that to my advantage….Mwuahaha.

But once again, I must return to my sibling-ly resemblance to my sis. She's naturally tan, has curly blonde hair, and just looks altogether Californian. Me, you can't tell I'm from the west coast. Not really. I'm the whitest white chick ever naturally, but recently decided to get my ass in gear, so now my skin is beige. I have long, straight black hair and I love it. I don't have to do anything to it at all! Haha. I beat you all! Ari and I are pretty much opposite when it comes to description, except for our eyes. We have almond-shaped eyes and they're beautiful blue-gray. Our eyes are easily our best feature. Well except for me, because my lips are awesome too. My aunt calls me 'Rosebud Lips' and I proudly wear that title.

So I guess that's why the dumbass at the concert threw the beer bottle, because he didn't think Ari and I were sisters and he didn't anticipate such a violent response from me. Big mistake. The even bigger mistake was when I didn't fight back as Mutant Giant Dude swung at me. Hey! I was drunk, so don't down me!

Anyway, some tall-ass dude punches me out. And so I expected to wake up in some sort of room for drunkies that they have when people pass out in concerts. I even expected to like...have some police officer standing over me and reading my rights, arresting me for prostitution. Well whatever. That didn't happen at all.

Guess what? I woke up in some forest probably 100 miles from where I had been when I got knocked out, and heard Ari calling me by my full name. "Maya Katrine Lee!" Came her high, distinctive voice. I wanted to murder her for that! But then my anger dissipated as I felt searing, throbbing pain in my ankle.

"Bloody fucking mother!" I gasped, as she tripped over me, adding to the already considerable pain I had from my ankle. Damn, I must have fallen on it when I passed out. Stupid fucking coordination! Or lack thereof.

Where the hell were we? Ari asked me as much, and considering I was trying to still figure that out myself I didn't give her a very comprehensive answer. Oh well. Our sisterly, still-hungover banter continued until some blonde freak and rugged-looking dude came into view. They looked kinda familiar...and damn hot! Okay, the pointy-eared dude more so than the ruggedly handsome guy.

Wait just one flarking minute. Pointy ears? What the…

Oh hell. The dude was an elf.

Oh double hell. He was not just any elf; he was LEGOLAS GREENLEAF.

Triple fucking hell. The dudes were Legolas and Aragorn, and we must've landed in Middle Earth.

As I ran over this revelation in my head, I watched Ari get the third degree from 'Princey' and 'King-o' as I so fondly thought of them. Okay, fondly isn't really an accurate statement. I winced as a particularly sharp throb of pain echoed through my ankle. Damn stupid coordination, not letting me just fall on my back.

So Legolas and Aragorn march into the clearing and look down at Ari. They start giving her the third degree, and she responded rather sassily. Go her! I wasn't in the mood to take shit from Princey and King-o at that moment, no matter how hot Legolas was and how ruggedly handsome Aragorn was.

And suddenly, Ari was there beside me. "Dude, we like got whacked into Tolkien-land!"

Oh, very fucking funny.


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1  
Ari's POV**

After I had delivered my award-winning statement, Blondie just stared at me. "Dumbass, we're not in 'Tolkien-land' as you so eloquently put it, we're in Middle Earth, in a forest by the Fellowship's encampment." Know-it-all. I just gaped at her, and then glanced back at Legolas and Aragorn. Damn, Leggy was HOT! _Now isn't the time for perverted thoughts, Ariadne Larine Lee, _I thought, mentally smacking myself. _Ouch. That hurt. Wait a second. Why am I talking to myself? Fucking mental, I am! _Shaking my head to rid myself of the voices in my head, I turned slowly back to the elf and the king. Moving hurt, my head was throbbing, and I could feel fragments of glass embedded in the skin, which hurt like a bitch and probably didn't look good either. Just my luck: I meet a super-sexy elf prince and my whole head is black, blue and blonde, with fragments of beer bottle stuck in the skin. Shit.

Legolas spoke again, nearly making me melt into a little puddle at the sound of that voice. "You two look injured. Please, allow us to assist you." I was too tired and in too much pain to resist, and a glance at my sister told me that she was in the same state, so I nodded. "Fine, we'll let you help us," I said begrudgingly, accepting Legolas' hand and allowing him to pull me gently to my feet. I looked up at him, head still spinning from the pain and softening my tone ever so slightly, said: "Uh, Legolas?" I was met with a patient "Yes?" nearly making me melt and fall on my poor little head again. "Thanks," I said, marking the first time in 22 years that I'd ever allowed a guy who I didn't know to help me. Hell, I didn't even let people I DID know help me, as I'm a prideful person. Legolas just smiled at me dazzlingly, I felt like fainting. And actually, I did just that.

The last thing I saw was Aragorn helping my sister carefully onto his horse before the pain in my head got the better of me. Dammit. That cut my Leggy-staring time down considerably. The world spun in front of my eyes before going totally black. All I remember was a pair of strong arms wrapping around me, preventing me from falling down to the ground, and a soft voice whispering comfortingly in my ear, then I saw and heard no more.


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**  
**Maya's POV**

"ARI!" I screamed as she fell to the ground. I jumped to my feet, only to be met by a wave of pain swept through my ankle and up my leg. I let out another scream, once that I stifled at the last second, so it was a rather strangled sound. Whoop-dee-do, I'd still scared the shit out of Aragorn and Legolas.

I grabbed onto a tree and gasped for breath as my head swum, and I was reminded that this was the first time that I'd stood in Middle Earth. "Oh buggering hell," I choked, slumping against the tree and trying to regain a little control of my vision. I felt where I had been punched in the temple by the huge dude at the concert and winced as my fingers hit the sore spot. If I ever get back to Earth, I swear to God I'm going to hunt down the bastard that hit me and kick him in the balls!

Aragorn was immediately by me, holding onto my arm. "My lady, I will need to escort you to the horse," he told me in an urgent voice. My vision was fading so fast I could barely tell that he was there beside me.

"Oh fucking shit. Get it over with then," I mumbled, grasping his forearm in return. Damn, this was not a nice way to begin my visit to a new galaxy. The Valar must not have been very happy that I had transferred to their world. But it wasn't my fault dammit! I hadn't MEANT to piss off the ethereal rulers of this planet!

Stupid fucking beer bottle. If it hadn't been thrown, none of this shit would've happened. That's it, no more alcohol for me! Well…for a few weeks at least.

As Aragorn led me over to the horse, I had the sudden urge to hurl up the many Smirnoffs I'd consumed at the concert. What the hell, why did I still have this hangover in another fucking universe? Shouldn't the jet lag of drinking be over with?

Apparently not.

"Just lean on me," Aragorn told me gently, supporting most of my weight as I unsteadily mounted my steed. His steed. Whatever.

"Doesn't look like I've got a fat lot of choice, eh?" I joked feebly, adjusting my position in the saddle so I could lean forward comfortably.

He simply gave a small smile. "Not really," he agreed, mounting flawlessly behind me. Fucking showoff-ish bastard.

"So who the bloody hell are you again?" I asked, feigning ignorance on the subject.

"I am Aragorn and that is Legolas. Do you not remember?" He asked in a concerned voice. In truth, he was lucky that I could still tell that he was a man.

"Sort of. Everything's all…" I paused and sort of fell forward as the horse started back towards the Fellowship's camp. "Bad," I finished lamely, and then pulled an Ari, passing out without another word.

* * *

"Maya? Lady Maya?" Came an inquiring voice. 

"Go away, I'm tired." And I pulled a blanket-like thing over my head.

"But Lady Maya-"

"It's Blondie. Not Lady, and definitely not Maya Katrine Lee. So shut the fuck up and let me go back to bed you fucking bastard!" I could tell that the voice which had addressed me was most definitely male, which is why I knew to call him 'bastard.' Of I could've just called him man whore, but I just didn't think that would have as much power.

"There is no need for such language," came a silky-smooth voice from farther away.

"Fuck off."

"Erm…how are you named 'Blondie' when you have not blonde hair?" Came a more familiar voice, the voice of Aragorn.

I answered him with my eyes still closed, since I wasn't very coherent. "I'm blonde at heart…I act very clumsy sometimes." My statement was further cut off by a yawn. I rolled over and put my arms over my head, which in turn caused the blanket to fall away from my head.

"Turn off the goddamn lights," I mumbled into my arms, trying to get warm and more comfortable. But then I realized I was in my tight leather pants. And my slut shirt. And I hadn't done a damn thing about how I looked since I came here. Neither had Ari.

Oh bloody fucking hell. Ari!

"Where's Ari?" I asked shrilly, pushing myself up to a sitting positionand spinning around to look at the people surrounding me. "Where is my sister?"

For a moment, no one answered. And then Legolas said softly, "She is over there, under the shade of a tree. But Maya-"

I wouldn't hear any more. "Shut up, elf!" I snapped, and in a second I was limping over to my sister as fast as I could go.

"Ari!" I whispered, kneeling by her and taking her hand, feeling for a pulse. Luckily it was there. "Oh God Ari, don't leave me with them alone." Tears started in my eyes. "Damn it, I'm in some shit-fucked-up planet with nancing idiots and kings who dress in fairy shoes!" I smiled weakly, wanting to sob in fear and hope for my sister and yet, I could have laughed at what I said. Ari would've, had she been conscious.

Legolas knelt by me, placing his hands on her temples. "We do not know for certain if she will survive, but there is a good chance that she might. Nevertheless, we felt that you should know of every possibility," he muttered, concentrating on trying to heal her.

I stood abruptly up again, ignoring the pain in my ankle once again. "There aren't any goddamn options, you hear me? She dies and you lose all hope of ever having children." I folded my arms and stared down at him coldly, happy that he was kneeling because if he hadn't been, then he would've been taller. And somehow I didn't feel like trying to intimidate yet another person who was taller than me.

"I said, did you hear me?" I snapped at him, my eyes narrowing of their own accord.

He slowly stood, as I had feared he might. _Damn fuck it, now he was taller!_ I thought. _Now he's certainly gonna kill me! Forget that, Mom's gonna kill me for letting my little sister out of my sight!If I ever evenget back! Argh!_

"Do you think that I do not care for her well-being?" He asked, his voice now cold.

"What I'm saying, Leggy-G, is that if she isn't well and on her feet by tomorrow you are going to have one pissed off sister to answer to! I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE A MERCHANT IN ELVEN SOCIETY OR THE GODDAMNED PRINCE! SHE DIES, AND YOU DO TOO!" With that, I spun around on my not-fucked up heel and ran into the forest.

After maybe a half-mile, I collapsed from loss of energy, pain, and just the complete overwhelming nature of the whole situation. Ari couldn't die! She was the only person who had really understood me, and she had brought new meaning to the term 'sister.' If she died, Legolas wouldn't be murdered…because I'd kill myself first.

For five minutes, I was all alone and shivering uncontrollably. But then I heard footsteps. Light ones, but footsteps all the same. I scrambled up with difficulty, and found myself facing my sister's object of obsession.

"What the fuck do you want, bastard?" I snapped at him. Ari was so going to kill me for talking that way to him, but damn it! I didn't know if she would ever wake up, so I was pissed.

He stared down at me with wavering patience. "I want you to calm down and listen to me."

I raised my eyebrows. "And I'm supposed to care? You know what, I don't give a rippy rat's ass if all of your little subjects just fall down at your feet and do what you say the second you say it. I'm not like that." Unknowingly, I began to pace, twisting my hands in front of me.

Staring at him as I prowled around, I said in a distressed voice, "That's my sister over there, and you're telling me she might never wake up! You're telling me to be calm. WHAT THE HELL?" I stopped and threw my arms in the air. "You expect me to just to go all elvish and stoic, but I can't do that! She is the only person that ever gave two shits about me, who really understood me! YOU EXPECT ME TO FORGET THAT?"

Legolas strode forward swiftly and took me by the shoulders, looking like he wanted to slap me to get me back to reason. "I wish for you to do nothing of the sort! Why do you think I would be so cruel?" He seemed hurt by my judgment.

"I don't know! I'm just looking out for her, alright? Don't you understand? She has to live. You can't just..." I paused, unable to articulate how shit-fucking-pissed off I was. "You know what," I continued in a dangerously low voice after a second,"I'm not even going to try and reason with you. Just heal her, okay?" I wrenched my shoulders from his grasp and limped back to the camp.

As I reached it, I knelt by Ari again. I stared down at her, hoping to God that she would live. As I looked down at my little sis, I gave a silent prayer. _Please God, let her live. Let her be okay._

After that, I added to myself with a grin, _Because if she dies I won't be able to see a real-life Legomance happening to her!  
_

Oh, how funny your thoughts could be when you were near hysterical. I just hoped that I needn't have reason to stay that way for long.

_Damn it Lego, no matter how much I hate you, you're the only one I trust with the well being of my sister. Please, heal her…_


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3  
Ari's POV**

I woke up with a throbbing headache, the sun burning into my eyes. I was lying on something soft, but I was too lazy and in too much pain to roll over and see what it was, so I just assumed it was a sleeping bag. Maybe like what Blondie and I used to camp out in when we were little kids. But then I remembered. Mosh pit. Captain Fuckhead. Glass bottle hitting my head. Ouch. Pain. Leggy. Oooooh. Middle Earth. Shit. This must be a bedroll, then, not a sleeping bag.

Eyes half closed, I surveyed my surroundings, looking for some familiarity, hoping that I would be in our backyard, back in Omaha, and that this was all some horrid nightmare. But no such luck. I touched my temple and was met with something hard that I assumed to be broken glass. And it hurt like a mother, too. I couldn't sit up, and even if I could have, I didn't want to. Somehow, getting up would have made it real. I shut my eyes and clicked my still-booted heels together under the blanket, willing myself to be back home with Mom, Dad, my siblings, being hit on by middle schoolers, just anywhere but in a strange place with fragments of shattered glass stuck in my skin. But it didn't work. Damn. Maybe I needed some spiffy sparkly slippers. Or maybe the good witches just didn't like me. Shit.

I opened my eyes when I heard familiar, light footsteps approaching me. Squinting against the bright sunlight, I could barely make out the shape of Legolas kneeling beside me, concerned look on those perfect features. "Are you well, milady?" he asked softly, so as not to hurt my poor head more. I was going to nod and fake it out of pride, but dammit, I couldn't move my head, so I figured that might be a bad sign. "Uh, first of all it's Ari, not milady. And thanks to some jackass from where I come from, no, I'm not all right," I said, closing my eyes against the throbbing in my temples where the shards of glass had pierced the flesh.

"Would you like your wounds dressed, then, mil- Ari?" he asked me gently, correcting himself mid-sentence, even though my eyes were closed, I betcha he was blushing! And I also bet it was cute. Aww! But my head hurt like a bloody mother, so all I could do was nod feebly, eyes still closed. Damn, this sucked. I hated being dependent on others, especially others whom I had never met, particularly when they were hot elves.

So I allowed Legolas to tend to my aching head with those gentle hands of his, and listened to him speak softly to me while he worked, though I was hovering between consciousness and sleep. "For a while, we feared you would not survive. We all feared very much for you, Ari." Wait a second! Did he say 'we'? As in including himself? He'd be sad if I died? WHEE! Aww. How sweet. Made me want to hug him. Actually, I always wanted to hug Leggy. He's just damned cute like that.

"Thanks, Leggy," I murmured. "Makes me feel special, really." I was slowly slipping into unconsciousness again, though the pain in my head had subsided significantly, thanks to Leggy and his awesome…Leggy-ness.

He either didn't notice my atrocious shortening of his name or was too busy working. Perhaps it might've even been that he took pity on me and didn't whack me because he didn't want to cause me pain. Or make himself work more on healing me. But he's a sweetie, I don't think he'd wanna hurt me. Cause that wouldn't be very nice now, would it?

In response to my barely coherent comment, he said softly in that sweet, silky voice of his, "You are special, very much so." Then he started speaking in Elvish. I had no idea what the hell he was saying, but something told me it wasn't the equivalent of 'dumbass.'

Wait a minute! It was like he knew I was crushing on him. Okay, more than crushing. Obsessing, maybe. How the hell did he know that? Who else knew that?

Ah shit. My sister.

The last thought I had before lapsing back into sleep was, _I'm going to bloody kill Maya! _Then my eyelids became heavy with eminent unconsciousness, and I fell into a restful sleep, with Legolas still whispering comfortingly in Elvish to me.


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4  
Maya's POV**

I love brooks. I officially admire them! A brook saved my life in Middle Earth you know. It felt SO good to wash up after the whole mosh pit incident.

And for once, I had to credit Leggy G. Good elf, that one. He lent me a soft green tunic, and it actually sort of didn't look bad. Haha. It's the Twins that made the tunic fit so well. And perhaps my spandy Wonder-bra made them even more noticeable…

But you don't want to hear about that. Unless you're a guy. But I'm still not discussing the Twins, so nyah.

Aragorn, being the dear soul he is, leant me a spare pair of breeches he'd bought in Bree. Never-before-worn, thank you very fucking much! I was happy about that. So a nice forest green tunic and black breeches, which although was not in style back home looked fine here. My Arwen-ish hair (Did I say Arwen-ish? No way! My hair is way better! It's straighter, shorter, and darker, so nyah!) was back in a braid. I looked pretty female Ranger-ish if I do say so m'self.

So I got back to camp, and there was the whole Fellowship staring at me like I was an alien.

"I didn't do it," I said automatically, stepping back and putting my hands behind my back.

The hobbits laughed, and I sent them a small smirk and wink. "We did not accuse you of anything," Gandalf told me, and I focused on him.

"Uh-huh. Sure," I said, bouncing on the balls of my feet. "I get those sort of looks all the time though, like I have green hair or something. I know I'm charming and beautiful, but it's rude to stare," I told them, playing demure and innocent. Again, I got lots of laughs from the group. Eeeee! I love getting laughs out of people. I was born a comedian.

"I hope you are refreshed," Aragorn said, skinning some deer that he had hunted earlier. I gave him a nod and a smile. "Much better, thanks. Or as you elves would say, _le hannon_."

I got many confused looks. Uh what, had I said it wrong? Nah, I couldn't have! I had read the whole Lord of the Rings Trilogy, plus The Hobbit, and The Silmarillion. I had gone to all the stupid fan sites and everything! No way was I wrong in pronunciation.

Finally, Legolas spoke. " 'You elves'? Why do you refer to elves as if you are not a part of that race?" He asked in puzzlement.

I stared at him, and then gave a laugh. "Do I look like an elf to you? For one, I haven't got the ears," I told him, brushing aside as strand of hair and feeling my ear to emphasize my point.

But I stopped dead. My ear didn't feel round and smooth. It felt pointy.

Holy shit.

"Oh bugger," I said out loud. It didn't really register with me for a second, or else I would have had a much more emotional reaction, like 'OH MY GOD!' Because after all, finding out that you've switched races isn't one of those things where you go, 'Oh that's nice honey, can you please pass the corn?' and move on to another topic of conversation.

Then it actually hit me. Guess what? I made that logical reaction of bellowing, "OH MY FUCKING GOD!" and covering my face. "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!"

That earned me more puzzled looks. "You. didn't know…that you were an elf?" Came the really freaked out voice of Pippin. His fellow hobbits turned and gave him 'what the fuck did you just go and talk for?' looks. I personally agreed. Did it fucking LOOK like I knew?

And yet, how hadn't I?

"Guys…what the hell?" I asked weakly. "I wasn't born immortal, I know that for certain. How the hell did this just suddenly…" I paused. This had to be some sort of practical joke. "Good God!" I continued. "What the fuck happened? And- oh shit, tell me Ari's an elf too!" I said breathlessly, looking at her in alarm.

Sure enough, there were her ears, pointed and elfy. Okay good. If I was doomed to live in this hellhole forever, then I had best have SOMEONE sane to tough it out with me.

Legolas approached me cautiously. "How could you suddenly become one of the Eldar without knowing it?" He asked, as though afraid for my sanity. I didn't see why. He should've figured out that I was a nutcase a long time ago. But that's beside the point.

I shrugged. "Beats the hell out of me, but uh…can I just ask him?" I inquired, pointing to Gandalf. I then launched into a seriously good act of being respectful. Apparently that's a good idea sometimes. "You're Mithrandir, aren't you? I've heard of you many times," I told him, bowing and looking as respectful as possible, that being pretty damn unusual for me, as I've just told you. "Please Mithrandir, have you ever heard of the Valar bringing people from other lands here to Middle Earth? Because as you can tell, my sister and I are not originally of these lands." I asked. I had to know if there had been any other cases like mine, because I needed some guidance as to what course I should take. And if something like this had happened before, then the decisions of whomever had come here could guide me in making mine.

He considered me for what seemed like a century. Finally, he said softly, "None. No cases where one would become an Elf…"

"Well FUCK that!" I exclaimed, throwing up my hands in defeat. "That's no fair! I gotta know SOMETHING about ANYTHING!" I was getting pissed again, and it was happening fast. Come on! I'd sprained my ankle, gotten punched out, woken up in Middle Earth, found out my sister might die, and had what…three fights? Four? And I could still barely stand by myself. Let's face it, everything was NUTS.

Legolas and Aragorn regarded me warily, having experienced my bitchy wrath before. "Maya," Aragorn began in a careful tone, but-

"DON'T CALL ME MAYA GODDAMMIT!" I planted my hands on my hips and glared at him. "MY NAME IS BLONDIE, PEOPLE HAVE ALWAYS CALLED ME BLONDIE, AND THEY WILL! THEY WILL WHEN I GET BACK WITH ARI! BECAUSE DAMMIT, WE'RE GOING BACK!"

I pointed an accusing finger at Legolas. "That is, if _you_ help her. How is she? Tell me the truth," I demanded. I know it's cliché to say this, but if looks could kill the whole of Middle Earth would be dead a thousand times over thanks to me. I'd be a murderer, which is a scary thought. But right then I felt like killing something. Preferably I would kill Legolas, or maybe one of those Valar bitches that had brought me down to this hellhole. Well fuck the fucking Valar! Fuck Legolas! Actually, I'll leave that to Ari. But still. DAMN THEM ALL!

That's better. And Ari can't make something perverted out of that, so I win! Hahaha!

Okay, so it's not nice to think of Ari being perverted when she's comatose. But you know what, I have to think like everything's normal, because if I don't I'm really going to loose it. And these bastards do NOT want to see me loose it completely.

Anyway, Legolas fixed me with another one of his piercing stares. I'm happy to say that not only did I hold and return his stare; I intensified mine to show him that I meant business.

Ick, not like THAT. Damn it, Ari's got me into the habit of having my mind in the gutter 24/7, just like she always does! Stupid sister, being bloody horny. True, I'd liked Orlando Bloom too, but not like her. Because I'm not freaking obsessed.

AGH! Elf Obsession of Doom!

Blimming mother of hell, I always get off track! I suppose that makes my stories more interesting and in-depth though, so don't yell at me! God! So Leggy G is staring at me, looking all princely and indignant. "We have already gone through this," he told me in a calm voice, though I could once again detect some coolness behind his words. "I care for her well-being, just as you do. I am trying my best to heal her."

"Oh whatever! I'm not in the mood for this shit. Just tell me-" Here I stopped, unable to ask what I needed to ask. I simply couldn't say it, because my vocal cords seized up and air passed through them, but no sound. Breath seemed stolen away from me.

"Tell me," I tried again in a whisper, "-if she's going to die."

Here he nearly smiled. "No, she is going to recover. I can sense life stirring in her bones again. And indeed, she was awake for a few minutes when you were gone. But then unfortunately she slipped back into unconsciousness. However, the mere fact that she was stirring slightly for a few minutes is a good sign."

I stared blankly at him. "She was awake and you didn't tell me? YOU JACKASS!" I wanted to punch his lights out like I'd done to Captain Fuckhead, but figured that wouldn't be a nice wakeup present for Ari. If her elf was injured she wouldn't be happy with me, and I didn't want to fight with her too.

Damn it, why couldn't she fall in love with an elf that I DON'T hate? Okay, so I don't hate him. And she's probably not in love quite yet, but she admires Leggy a pretty damn lot. If they gave it time, I'm sure Ari could love him. And I know he could love her back. After all, my sister is pretty kick ass. And she never had trouble with long-term relationships. Well, not as much as I did.

And then it hit me just how deep in shit we were. Here Ari is, falling for an elf that has had more than two millennia of life experience, and she's only just out of college. How the hell is that supposed to work? By mortal standards, they're far enough apart. By elven standards, it's even worse.

Love fucks everything up. I've always said it, and here's proof!

And you know the worst part? Though right now I want to freaking de-ball him, Legolas is the only elf that I'd trust to take care of my little sister. Suddenly I'm finding this rather funny, because Mom always said that Ari and I deserved nothing less than royalty for husbands. And here's an immortal Prince, custom made for my little sis! Priceless.

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps if you would have stayed here instead of worrying about your female vanity, you would have seen her awaken."

That was a slap in the face, and I felt as if my heart had been torn from my chest. The whole group was silent, and slowly I saw that Legolas had realized what he said. Immediately he looked guilty. He began to say something, but I mutely held up my hand to silence him.

"That," I said in a quiet voice that held pure venom, "Was unforgivable. She is my sister, and I would die for her. I would kill for her. And right now, you seem like the perfect person to be on the receiving end of that kill instinct, _Your Highness." _At that point, I couldn't even muster the strength to throttle him like I fantasized about doing. Something one of my friends would have said to him echoed through my mind. _You're such a bitch. _God, how true that was of the ninny in front of me.

Leggy might not have liked me very much, but at that point I loathed him. What a big, happy family we'll be someday if and when he and Ari get married! Not.

Losing control, I swooped down and grabbed a stick. I strode up to Legolas and poked him with it. "You've got no idea how much I care for my little sister, Legolas Greenleaf. You don't know her, and you sure as hell don't know me. So BACK OFF!" With my two bare hands, I snapped the stick cleanly in half. Letting the halves fall out of my hands I slapped him cleanly across the face.

As he stared me down and I glared coldly back up at him (not that he's THAT much taller than me) I heard a sound. We both whipped around to see Ari stirring.

We cast last venomous glances at each other before rushing to Ari. Let it go to record that I got there first, thank you very fucking much! We each took one of her hands and waited for her to stir.

Her eyes opened, and I couldn't help but squeal. "ARI!"


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
Ari's POV**

I woke up from my fitful sleep to find that my head didn't hurt as badly as it had before, and felt a light pressure on each of my hands. _What the fuck?_ I thought before blinking a few times, trying to make the world come into focus. It was probably mid-evening. Damn, I slept a whole day!

I looked to my left, and there was Leggy, holding onto my hand as if trying to protect me from pain. Aw. He's such a sweetie…remind me to marry him. And then I looked to my right, and nearly cried with joy as I saw my sister. She was half asleep, but squeezing my hand for dear life. And she was cutting off the circulation in my arm. Dammit. I reluctantly slid my hand from Legolas' and whacked my sister lightly.

"OW! BLOODY FUCKING MOTHER!" she exclaimed as I smirked, and Leggy looked up from the ground, which he had been concentrating on as if his life depended on it. I wonder why. But I saw that he was also trying to hide a smile as Blondie looked up at me and prepared to whack me back, but then focused on my face and squealed loud enough to wake the fucking dead. My head still hurt a little bit, and that didn't help matters much.

"ARI!" she squealed, throwing her arms around me in a hug. "AH! Christ!" I yelled, though laughing and hugging her back. Sneaking a peek at Leggy, who was chuckling, I smiled at him. He had saved my life, after all. After managing to escape my older sister's embrace, I looked at him.

"Legolas?" I asked cautiously, as it was still weird talking to the very elf I'd read about in the trilogy and seen in the movie. And for the record, the real Leggy is way hotter than Orlando Bloom.

"Yes, Ari?" he replied with a smile. Damn, if you've never had the object of your affections dazzle you with a smile like Leggy's, then you're missing out big-time! Cause I nearly melted and turned into a puddle under his gaze. His eyes are BLUE. And they like…stare right through you, but it's not scary.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I owe you my life," I said, the truth of the fact that I'd nearly died causing my voice to crack.

"Think nothing of it. I am simply glad you survived," he said back to me, reaching out and brushing a strand of my black-streaked hair from my eyes.

Then my goddamned sister had to go and ruin a very nice moment, coming back from wherever the hell she'd gone with a distressed look on her face.

"Hey Ari…" she said cautiously to me. Her tone of voice alone made me grab Leggy's hand, expecting horrible, earth-shattering news. "What?" I asked, dreading the answer, as my stupid brain was coming up with increasingly horrifying scenarios of the bad news my sister was preparing me for.

She pushed back a lock of her raven black hair and pointed to her ear. "Look at this," she said, looking distressed. I looked.

Instead of rounded like a normal human being, it was pointy, like…an elf's. "Uhm, you and me are apparently…we're kinda…" she stuttered, obviously stalling.

"Kinda WHAT?" I asked, giving her a 'holy shit!' stare.

"Kinda elves," she finished, staring at me as if expecting me to launch myself into the nearest creek and drown myself.

"Oh, is that all- WAIT A MINUTE! How can I be an elf? By elven standards, I'm an INFANT! DAMN IT!" How was this fair? I was just getting to know Leggy, and then BOOM, I find out that by his race's-our race's-standards, I was young enough to be his GREAT GRANDDAUGHTER! TIMES TEN!

At this, I started crying, I admit it. As in, tears streamed down my face. It was no fair. I'd waited 22 years to be grown-up, and now I get transferred to some fucking weird planet with old but sexy elves, and suddenly, I'm a baby again! NO FAIR, NO FAIR, NO FUCKING FAIR! I just sat there and sobbed like a little kid- wait! I was a little kid- and wished desperately to wake up from this nightmare.

My sister just looked at me, looking forlorn, but Leggy knelt beside me and embraced me tightly. I clung to him, sobbing. First I almost die, and then I find out that the elf of my dreams is old enough to be my fucking grandfather! There's gotta be some law against that. Damn. Damn the man and his rules. Hmph. Damn man. Damn rules. But maybe elf rules are different, because the elf version of the man is cool.

I finally calmed down enough to stop crying and simply clung to Legolas. At any other moment I would have been reveling in the glory of being in his arms, but at that moment, everything was just too much. The world spun as one of the dizzy spells I was prone to under stress hit me, and I had to close my eyes; my head hurt again.

"It's no fair," I choked through tears as Legolas gently lowered me back down to my bedroll and drew the blankets up to my chin, gently smoothing my dual-colored curls from my face, which I knew was probably chalk white as it always was when I was startled or afraid. And I was both.

Nearly dying does that to a person. It's scary, because after I fainted in the forest, I was like hovering between life and death. Sometimes I could hear conversations and wanted to open my eyes and tell everyone that I was okay, but I couldn't. And there were some times when I felt nothing, heard nothing, saw nothing. Everything was dark, and the darkness was engulfing me, strangling me slowly, seeping into my lungs, my blood, and tearing me apart until there was nothing left of me. I didn't want to die. I wanted to live and feel the sunlight on my face, feel the rain on my skin, see Legolas, see Blondie, see my family, even my annoying brothers and pesky younger sister.

Thinking of my family only made the tears come faster. I wondered if they missed us. If they thought we were dead, or believed we were alive. What had our parents told the younger kids? How would I say it if it was my kids who were missing? How do you tell a 13 year old, an 11 year old and a 9 year old that their big sisters are never coming home? I sure would never want to tell my children that, and I hope I never will. Hell, at this rate, I'll never have children, because the only elf that I could ever come to love is like several thousand years older than I am.

It was only when my throat had stopped seizing up and the tears had quit falling that I noticed Legolas' presence beside me, kneeling next to me on the ground, looking a little lost, like he wanted to say something to me but was afraid because of my current emotional state. I managed a weak smile and reached for his hand, my own hand white and shaking. We just sat there in silence for a moment, me clinging to his hand, him still looking a little lost.

Funny, lost was how I felt. In a few days, I'd gotten torn from everything I ever knew, nearly been killed, found out that I'd somehow turned into an elf, and found myself falling in love with an elven prince who was thousands of years older than I was. Damn. Life sure has gotten fucked up lately.

There was just one thought running through my battered little brain at that moment: I want my mommy.


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6  
Maya's POV**

As I watched Legolas holding Ari, I couldn't help but feel unwanted. Damn it, that was my sister and I should've been the one by her! LEGOLAS WAS A BASTARD TO ME, BUT HE GOT TO SPEND QUALITY TIME WITH ARI! WHAT THE FUCK!

Wait…Ari should have been so triumphant! Why the hell was she crying! She was getting quality elf-cuddling time dammit! I want an elf…

No I don't! I blimmin bloody well don't! I'm just a little jealous because Ari has a cute walking, talking Kleenex is all. Lego is gonna do whatever Ari wants because he's so smitten with her, he'd probably dive off a cliff for a falling Reeses if she asked him to. But somehow I don't think she'd send her elf off a cliff, she'd rather he was there to do other things…

Wait, did I just call Princey 'her elf'? And…AGH! IMAGES! BLOODY FUCKING SHIT! BAD IMAGES!

Oh dear God, someone –besides Lego Head- shoot me. Put me out of my misery. If I'm going to get images, then I bloody well want them to be good images! Like of me and…Okay, I dunno. Somehow I can't picture myself with anybody. I guess there's just nobody I'd ever want to date.

Eh. Middle Earth males are all fucked-the-hell-up anyway. Fucking losers. Well alright, Aragorn ain't bad. And Gandalf doesn't seem like too much of a wanker. But whatever. They still all suck.

So as I watched Ari and Lego Head (she's gonna kill me for calling him that if she ever finds out) having a cuddle-fest, I suddenly felt very alone and very useless. Once again, I opted for the 'take a walk and think things out' thing. I always go running or play some baseball when I'm feeling bad, but since I can't really find a running route in a place that I've only been in for a few days and there's no such thing as baseball in Middle Earth…I figured a walk was best.

I slipped away pretty much unnoticed by everyone, as they were all seriously concerned for Ari. I was too, but I figured that if she wanted my help she'd ask for it. Considering the fact that she almost for sure wasn't going to ask for me –would YOU tear yourself away from a damn hot elf? – I wasn't worried. More than likely she'd pass out soon anyway.

As I walked through the forest along some half-faded path, tears came to my eyes. There Ari was, in the arms of someone who she could love and one who could love her. Ari, the younger one, always taken care of. But so far it had mostly been me taking care of her, so I had the blessing of her companionship. But now that Princey Pansy was in the picture, who did I have to turn to? Who did I have that I could hold when they were down, and in return would hold me?

I guess it's back to Bob the Teddy Bear for me.

And yet…Ari wouldn't forget me, would she? Nah, we'd had too many drunk-ass moments for her to shove her big sis away. I just had to accept that though Leggy was an asshole supreme to me, he wasn't to her and they were going to fall in love. If they hadn't begun to already.

Ah sick. My sister is a Mary-Sue.

What does that make me though? Mary-Sue-in-law? Mary-Sue-In-Chief? Or something entirely different, like sister forgotten because she doesn't have a hunky pointy-eared male to cuddle? Pssh, whatever. I don't feel like coming up with cheesy romantic lines to say anyway. Snogging is overrated!

Well, unless it's with an elf I would assume. It must be the whole 'immortality' thing that gives you experience without actually having to go out and get a lot of…experience. You know what? I'm confusing myself, so I'm just going to stop thinking perverted thoughts about my race now. (Have I mentioned that I still find it infinitely strange to call elves 'my race'?)

Buggering hell, I so do not want to be classified in the same group as Prince Lego Head. Eh, Ari has to suffer that same fate, so I'm good. As they say, misery loves company. And being a ninny for all of eternity definitely qualifies as being miserable in my book.

As all these illogical and rather rude thoughts ran through my head, I failed to notice that I was being followed. I reached the spandy little brook that I loved before I heard the footsteps behind me, and only then did I turn around, shiny little dagger that Aragorn was letting me borrow in my hand.

Lucky me! It was only Gandalf. No fighting for the few-days-old-elleth that is me that day! The still slightly hungover, very confused, and painfully wounded elleth that is. A sprained ankle doesn't go away that quickly to tell you the truth. Although I have a sneaking suspicion that if Elvish Barbie over there had actually tried he could've sped up my recovery a little. But oh well. He doesn't like me, and I'm sure as hell not going to ask for his help!

Gandalf observed me silently for a moment, as though considering what he should say to me. What could there possibly be to say? 'Stop getting into fights with the elf' would be one thing. But actually, 'Get the hell out of my camp!' Seemed far more likely. For some reason, however, Gandalf didn't seem like the kind of wizard to just turn two elleths unescorted and unarmed. Okay then…what was on the old man's mind?

Since I was smart enough to wait patiently for him to speak, I found out.

"Tell me everything. Who you are, where you come from, and what you know about this place. I must know if you are a danger to this Company."

Everything? He thought I'd tell him everything? Hell no! "You expect me to tell a _complete stranger _everything about my past and my sister's?" I said incredulously, voicing my thoughts aloud without thinking, as I have a tendency to do.

Luckily for me, Gandalf thought my suspicions valid, considering the fact that I hardly knew him. But then he asked the dreaded question:

"Do you trust me?"

_Frankly? No, _I wanted to answer. I don't trust easily. I used to trust Ari, but that changed when we came here. Now I'm not so sure of her judgment, and consequently not so sure of her. I love her, and she's still the one I'll go to when I need a confidante, but no longer will I feel comfortable enough to tell her all.

Instead of answering as someone with their head up their ass would, I gave a somewhat polite answer. "Not truly. But I guess that I've got no other choice but to tell you eh?"

Gandalf seemed taken aback by such frankness from a female for a moment, and then he looked thoughtful once more. "Will you at least tell me a little bit about how you came to be here, and what you know of my companions?" He asked gently.

In response, I smirked at him and leaned against a tree. "Get ready for a long story, old man."

And with that, I launched into our tale.

The tale that had started out well enough soon became a rant. A rant soon became a tirade against this world, its inhabitants, and pretty much everything that had happened to me.

"-AND PRINCE ASSHEAD OVER THERE JUST COMES RUSHING IN WITH HIS HEAD HALFWAY UP HIS ASS DOING THE WHOLE 'DAMSEL IN DISTRESS' CLICHÉ THING OR WHATEVER THE HELL YOU GUYS CALL IT HERE! HE DOESN'T KNOW JACK SHIT ABOUT ME OR MY SISTER, AND IF HE HURTS HER HE IS GOING TO FIND HIMSELF CASTRATED BY A BLUNT OBJECT!"

Aren't my communication skills just lovely? But wait, there's more!

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHAT YOU SAY, WHAT HE SAYS, OR WHAT ANYBODY DOES, YOU HEAR? HE MAKES ONE FUCKING MOVE AT MY SISTER AND HE DIES! I WAS SERIOUS WHEN I SAID I'D KILL OR DIE FOR ARI, AND SERIOUS WHEN I SAID I'D LIKE MY KILL TO BE LEGOLAS! PRINCE OR NOT, HE'S NOT DOING A DAMN THING TO MY SISTER! HE HASN'T BEEN HELPING HER AS MUCH AS HE'S BEEN CUDDLING HER, AND HE HASN'T HELPED ME AT ALL!" I flipped off the general direction of the camp, and then yelled, "FUCK LEGOLAS, FUCK MIRKWOOD, AND FUCK THE STUPID FUCKING ELVES! I HATE THIS WORLD, I HATE MY NEW RACE, AND I HATE THE FACT THAT I EVER GOT CATAPULTED TO THIS HELLHOLE!"

I punched a tree in my fury, and let out a shriek of pain: apparently slamming one's hand into a solid object isn't a good idea. I don't believe I'd experienced the –literally- hurtful truth of that logic before.

For a long while, there was pretty much complete silence in the woods. I knew for sure that the Fellowship had easily heard my erm…statements…from where they were. And I was also sure that I'd scared off every beast, being, or creature for a few miles around with all the screaming I'd done.

Gandalf simply sat there looking astonished, and just a little bit scared. I suppose he might've thought I was gonna launch at him with the dagger, but I really wasn't mad at him. On the contrary, once I completely calmed down –which was a long while later- I was grateful that he'd sat there and taken my shit. Because really, it wasn't the old guy's fault! I didn't blame him. I just needed to be able to vent without fear of reprimand or interruption or further provocation. And for once I'd been able to do just that.

After he'd recovered from the shock hearing the extent of my rather colorful vocabulary, he heaved a great sigh. I didn't blame him. After all, I hadn't just complained.

Gandalf now knew that Ari and I already had knowledge of the future of Middle Earth, and that we both had it memorized down to the letter. Wisely, he hadn't questioned me on what was to come. Good chap, Gandalf.

Several moments went by, in which I gained control of my emotions and he thought. Finally, my breathing rate was at its usual tempo, but much deeper as I still felt like hitting things. Fortunately for me, experience is a good teacher, and I remembered that trees are quite solid, and quite hard.

Gandalf still thought.

I got bored.

Gandalf remained incredulous to my boredom.

I threw a stick at him.

This earned a reaction from him, the reaction being raised eyebrows.

I was satisfied. And quite amused.

During my giggles, Gandalf stood and came over to me. "Now that you have had your fun, I think it is time to go back to camp."

In between bouts of laughter, I asked demurely, "Can I bring more sticks?"

Laughing as well now, Gandalf answered, "I think, my dear, that you are going to need them to fend off Legolas. It seems that he and Ari are indeed becoming closer, as you said."

I gave a twitch. "Bad images. Bad, bad mental images."

Gandalf laughed again. "Let us hope that you can clear those images from your mind, as you will need all your wit for the explanation you must now give.

Heaving a sigh, I needed say only one thing: "Oh bugger."


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7  
Ari's POV**

I was getting some quality elf cuddling when my sister came back from wherever the hell she'd been. I looked up at her and smiled, happy to see my sister, my favorite person in the world. Then I noticed she didn't look happy. In a monotone, she replied "Hey." Uh-oh. That was never good. "I didn't do it!" I said automatically, and then remembered I'd been comatose for God knows how long. She didn't even crack a smile. Double uh-oh. Normally, she would've laughed and called me a crack-whore or something, but she wasn't laughing now.

Then I noticed that she and Legolas were purposely avoiding each other's eyes. There was definitely some tension between these two, and just from looking at Blondie, I could tell that she was angry. Triple uh oh. I didn't want my sister to hate Leggy. I just wanted peace. I considered starting to sing the Barney song, but figured Maya would just whack me and Leggy would be confused. So I settled for something more eloquent.

"What the buggering hell is going on?" I asked. Ok, so not the most eloquent, but it got my point across. I looked expectantly from Leggy to Blondie, knowing that neither wanted to respond. I glared at each of them until my sister finally spoke.

"Frankly I think your little elvish friend here is a garcon petasse, but don't mind me," Blondie responded coolly, narrowing her frosty blue eyes at Leggy. "I am, after all, just your sister." She didn't look angry as much as she looked hurt, and it felt like someone had torn my heart from my chest.

"Blondie," I whispered. I couldn't think of anything to say to my sister. True, she'd gotten mad at me over petty things like taking the last HoHo from the fridge, but never had I seen her so hurt. There was a time when I always knew what to say to avoid getting in trouble, whether with Mom and Dad or a teacher, but everything had changed. I spoke slowly and uncharacteristically quietly, holding back tears.

"You know that your opinion matters the most of anyone in the world. You are my older sister, and I've always looked up to you and always will. But I don't know what's going on. I nearly died, got ripped from everything I ever knew, and may never see Mom and Dad again, and that's a little much. I thought 22 was so grown up, but now I feel like a little kid. I don't know anything about this place, and we need to stick together. So, you and Legolas need to work things out, or I'm going SWAT team on both of your asses," I said, smirking a little at my last sentence.

"Well what the fuck," Blondie said without much emotion anymore. "If you hadn't noticed, I didn't exactly pick to come here either. You're not the only one who's gotten taken away from everything, so you can stop the pity party shit right the fuck now. The only one of those excuses you'll get any sympathy for is almost dying, and you should already know that I don't want anything to happen to you! I love you Ari, even if you are a pain in the ass sometimes. I'll do anything I can for you sis, even if it's talk to this asshole over here." She gestured to Legolas, then went on. "Gimme a few minutes to get used to the fact that I might soon be related to this bastard, and then I'll be ready to consider keeping him alive."

"Okay, you can have a few minutes. And this asshole over here has a name, it's Legolas. And Legolas…her name is Blondie. Not Maya. Not milady either. So call her Blondie, or I'll go SWAT team on your ass," I said, looking from one face to the other as Blondie spoke again.

"By the way, I'm sure you're going to kill me for calling Lego-head here a man-whore en François, so I'll give you some time for that later." I rolled my eyes at her and waited for them to speak to each other.

Blondie turned to Legolas and focused on him with a really distrustful glare. "Alright, Princey. Truce. White flag. I give in, Your Royal Pain in The Ass-ness. Whatever you want me to say, I'm going to stop verbally bitch-slapping you." She sighed, as if she was sad that she had to be nice now. "But my threat still stands...you do ANYTHING to hurt my little sis, and you're as good as worm chow, you hear?"

At this, I had to snort at my sister's total lack of eloquence, though I rolled my eyes. Leggy looked confused for a moment, then finally said: "I will not hurt her, you have my solemn promise." Aww. How sweet. I couldn't resist smiling at him, then at my sister, then bursting into song with a smirk.

_I love you…  
You love me….  
__We're a happy family…  
__With a great big hug and a kiss from me to you  
__Won't you say you love me too.._

Leggy and Blondie's reactions were exactly how I'd pictured them. Blondie whacked me lightly in the arm, and Leggy sat there looking confused, yet still hot. Then Blondie and I started laughing, and Leggy looked at us like we were nuts. Which we were. When we finally calmed down, Leggy spoke up. "It is time Ari met the others. Come, the Fellowship awaits."

Oh, bloody buggering hell. I probably looked like shit, and I hated to look bad when I was meeting other people. So I shook out my long blonde and black hair and tucked it behind my newly pointed, but still multiply pierced, ears. "Okay, let's go then." Time to meet the Fellowship. Oh yay.


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8  
Maya's POV**

As we marched back to the main part of the Company's camp, I couldn't help but be a little bit scared on Ari's behalf. Bloody fucking hell, what if they didn't like her? Oh shit! What if they didn't like me! We hadn't really been formally introduced.

Bugger. Now I was major nervous.

Putting my hair into a better ponytail and rubbing my eyes, I hoped that I at least looked acceptable. "Let's see," I muttered, looking at myself in a scrutinizing sort of way.

Neatly trimmed nails: Check. I'd just cut and filed them just before the concert, as well as put clear nail polish on them. Woot!

Hair: Check times ten! My hair was always perfect. Black, silky, smooth, and gorgeous. Go me!

Makeup: Not check. I didn't have any on. Well whatever, I suppose I looked passable without it. My skin was clear and tan, what else should I worry about?

Clothes: Uh, not even mine! Damn. So much for making a good first impression. But then again, it was better to be seen in this stuff than my skimpy little outfit from before. Didn't need the people who were shaping the fate of this entire planet thinking I was a barroom whore. Even though I am. But they don't need to know that!

Sighing at not having my own clothes, I kept my eyes on Ari, ready to be at her side at any given moment should she fall again. See, I'm not such a bumbling idiot after all!

So we got to where the rest of the companions were, and they all looked up at us expectantly. Under their gazes I did well enough, but couldn't help but go red at the neck. That's what I always do when I'm a little embarrassed: my cheeks don't get red but my ears and neck do. Go figure eh? I'm just weird like that.

"Now what did I do?" I asked exasperatedly without thinking. This earned many raised eyebrows.

Giggling, Ari said, "Nothing we know about…yet! Oh lemme guess, you snuck into the hobbits' weed stash again…?" That earned her a smack on the arm, which she got. After all, it isn't very nice to say that your only sister is a junkie! I don't do drugs! Well unless alcohol counts as a drug…which it technically does. In which case I am a junkie, because I can drink alcohol like other people drink coffee. Anyway, I glared at her and said, "I did not break into their weed. Shut up!"

She merely giggled. "Sure you di-"

Gandalf cut her off. "Silence, if you please. We have much to discuss."   
_  
Yeah, yeah. Shut up old man. We'll get to it, _I thought. _It's not exactly like I'm looking forward to telling these people that we come from like, a different world. Not the best ice breaker there ever was…_

Out loud I said, "Yes, we know. Let's just get it over with then, alright?" I sat down and folded my legs by me, trying to meet everyone's eyes. It was kinda hard, considering I was like…I was like one Ewok on a planet of Wookies.

You're probably not going to get that; it's a cultural reference to the original Star Wars movies. Suffice it to say in more LOTR ish terms, I was like one dwarf on a planet of humans. Very big cultural gap. I mean, these dudes think women should hide behind long, flowing dresses…and look at what I was wearing! A tight little corset top and tight black leather pants. Big fucking difference. Huge.

Gandalf sighed and sat down as well. "I am going to tell you some things about the elleths before us," he said to the Fellowship, and they all apparently understood that this was some serious shit because they all focused immediately. Also, they didn't say one world or really fidget at all. Damn, they almost looked like a little band of soldiers or something; they were so disciplined! And hobbits are pretty adorable when they're all stoic and stuff. Not elves though. Elves aren't ever adorable…at least the males aren't.

And I'm not saying that just because Legolas is a stupid poncing git either.

At any rate, Gandalf went on after a moment of silence. "I must ask you to keep an open mind. Circumstances are indeed strange, but you must remember that these times themselves are strange."

Aragorn nodded wisely, and I wanted to hug him. Of course, Lego-head nodded too but it wasn't nearly as nice as the way Aragorn did it. Because of course, as we all know, Legolas is an asshole.

Turns out he can at least listen though.

The group watched Gandalf with awe as he repeated to them what I'd confessed in the woods. I hate to admit it, but I stopped looking at all of them pretty early in the story. Instead, I either kept my gaze on Gandalf or looked down at the ground. I don't know why I was ashamed, but I was. Can you blame me? I bet you would've been embarrassed had YOU been the one under the spotlight.

After about twenty or thirty minutes of steady explanations, Gandalf finished his little monologue and surveyed them all. "Well?" He asked. "Is there anything else you wish to know?"

Boromir stepped forth. "Yes…there is a certain matter I have been contemplating in my mind." He looked at me, and I was pretty uncomfortable, because I wasn't sure if his eyes were on my face or…somewhere else. I'll keep my judgment on that matter neutral for now.

After a moment's pause he continued. "What are we to do with the ladies Ari and Maya?" He asked, looking back at Gandalf.

That pissed me off. "_Excuse me_," I hissed, standing straight up and glaring at him. "What do you mean, 'do with us'? We aren't fucking baggage that you just carry around at will!" I planted my hands on my hips and sent him my 'I wish I could castrate you with a blunt object!' look. 

He looked just a little bit alarmed, or at least I think he did. Maybe it was just my imagination. Or wishful thinking. Either way, to me he seemed scared. "Nay," he answered. "I wouldn't say in the least that you are…'baggage.' I'm simply wondering whether you are to accompany us along our journey or if one of us is to go off and get help. Perhaps one of us might even escort you somewhere else, and rejoin the Fellowship later." He looked a bit hopeful as he said that, and his gaze _definitely _went lower than my neck. Like fucking hell buddy! You ain't getting a piece of this!

I guess the look on my face must've been pretty damn sour, because Aragorn quickly intervened. "I do not think that is necessary, Boromir," he said. "But neither do I think that either of them –especially Ari- is fit to accompany us." He looked briefly to Ari before turning his gaze back on me. His eyes were piercing, and seemed to tell me everything with one look.

Oh yeah? Well I can play that game.

Infuriated, I stared right back at him. "Stop being so goddamn sexist. Ari and I can handle ourselves, can't we?" I said, looking to my sister as I mentioned her.

"Damn straight!" She said loudly, nodding emphatically. I nodded right back.

Legolas stepped forward. "It isn't a matter of if you can take care of yourselves. It's a matter of us being distracted by you. What if we must fight? You could easily get killed…" For a moment he paused, and I could tell it was taking all his self-control not to look at Ari. I could feel my eyes narrow at that, but I guess it's at least good that he's concerned for her.

Hmph. He should be more concerned for himself, because the minute he doesn't have his little friends to guard him I'm going to kick him in the-

"-Or we could be killed trying to protect you," he finished grimly. 

"Thanks Dr. Optimism," I snarled. "We really needed that info…NOT!" I turned to everyone else in the Company with a roll of my eyes. "Guys…we can help you! This is a dangerous Quest, and you need all the help you can get. For God's sake, WE KNOW WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN TO ALL OF YOU!"

Gandalf looked at me seriously. "Which is why you are that much more of a danger to us."

There was silence. I couldn't help but admit to myself that he was right. Since I was still beating myself up over the fact that we were in deep shit, Ari spoke. "We won't mess this up, Gandalf. We know not to chat on about the fate of the fucking world, okay?"

I gave a snort. "Yeah, what Ari said. There's a reason I have a college degree you know."

They looked at me blankly.

"Eurm…think of like…you know how you have apprentices and philosophers that instruct students about certain subjects? Well, where we come from they're called teachers. You go to a place where teachers are called school, and you learn. Men and women both can do that. And college is the highest level of school…I passed it with flying colors," I explained to them. "I got what's called a degree, which is where your teachers verify that you went through all your classes, and sign a paper that says you've learned all you need to learn for your job."

This time it was little Pippin that spoke. "What was your…degree…about?" He asked me curiously. I furrowed my brow. "What the hell? I mean…what do you mean?" I questioned him.

He thought for a moment, then rephrased. "What did you learn at that…school?"

"Oh!" I laughed. "I specialized in history."

This earned me a snort from Boromir. I turned around and flipped him off. Everyone stared at me with a 'WTF?' expression except for Ari, who sniggered. I winked at her and then turned back to Gandalf, who was looking most displeased that we had gotten so far off subject. Whoops.

"If we may return to the original subject of our conversation," Gandalf chided us, and we all shut up. I couldn't help but smirk to myself about everything in general though. I'm so evil.

"What skills do you posses –besides knowledge of the future- that may aid us on our quest?" He asked us, with what was probably complete confidence that we wouldn't be able to answer him.

Ari and I thought for a moment. What did we know how to do? Well, there was…erm nevermind, THAT won't work! "Oh! We know medical stuff," Ari said at last, with a look of dawning comprehension on her face. I nodded, eyes widening. "Yeah!" I agreed. We, as residents of Earth in a completely different time, should know tons more about the human body than a bunch of Middle Earth wankers! Even though I hadn't gotten a medical degree like I'd originally planned, but whatever! I knew enough about first aid to surpass anyone here…except maybe Elrond. But you know, he's an elf with a couple millennia of experience, so that isn't really very fair now is it?

Gandalf sighed and looked up, as though praying for guidance from the Valar or Eru. Hm…maybe he actually was! I wouldn't know, I'm not an Istar.

Finally, after a long moment of serious contemplation –sorry to use such big words everyone, there's just no other way to describe it- he looked back at Ari and me. "You will accompany us to Lothlorien," he said finally. Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, and Boromir all opened their mouths to protest, but Gandalf shushed them with a LOOK. You know, the really serious type of look. Like the…'SHUT THE BLOODY FUCK UP OR I'MA KILL YOUR ASSES' kind of look. And those looks are never fun when you're the one on the receiving end. But they're super fun when you're watching them being given to someone else! Especially when one of those people is a stupid fucking bimbo elf! YAY! LEGO HEAD GOT A STERN LOOK! HAHA DIPSHIT, HAHA! Okay, I'm done with Prince Leg-ass bashing for now.

Anyway, Gandalf continued on with his whole conclusion thing. "They will come. They might actually be able to give us council on what path to take, as long as we are careful in listening and they are in the telling." He sent me a quick glance, and I nodded in affirmative…although I'm not quite sure what I was agreeing to. Maybe that I would keep my fat mouth shut unless he told me to? That's definitely a possibility.

Slowly, the whole group nodded in acceptance. Although I might mention that Boromir still looked pissed that his whole 'Escort the ladies and have a little fin with 'em along the way' plan didn't work very well. _Haha asshole! You got served! Honorable man my ass, I can tell he wants a piece of me. And once again, he sure as hell ain't getting any! _I thought with a smug grin directed at him. He merely scowled even more.

"But," Legolas said slowly, looking at Ari, "They cannot go by the names of that land anymore. If they are to stay with us, they must have new names. Elvish names."

Aragorn nodded. "That they must," he agreed, stepping towards me.

Ari was just as indignant as I was. "What the hell…but I like my name!" She said, eyes brimming with angry tears. I could tell what was going through her head: these are the names our parents gave us, the last remnants of our culture from home! Why should we throw that away too?

Gandalf merely looked at her. "What sort of questions would be raised if we introduced you as Ari and Maya?" He questioned. I gave a frustrated sigh and rolled my eyes. "Oh just shut the bloody fuck up," I groaned. "Fine, we'll do it. Just don't name us the elven equivalent of 'goddamn whores' alright?"

Legolas looked highly offended. "Why would we do that?"

_Because you're a fucking asshole, _I snarled in my head. Out loud I just sighed. "Nevermind, Your Royal Dipshit-ness. Just name Ari already, since you're the elf around here. And you'd better give her a good name or…oh just name her something pretty!" I glared at him and leaned against a tree.

Legolas turned and looked at Ari with thought written all over his face. He looked at her with something like reverence, and she looked back with just as much admiration. I wanted to mime gagging, but settled for making a face and looking up to the sky.

I am not jealous of Ari! I just hate Legolas' guts. And alright, I'll admit, seeing the way they look at each other makes me feel just a little bit lonely…but I don't need any stupid elf! I'm fine on my own.

After a long moment of contemplation, he spoke softly. "Almarea, meaning blessed," he said gently. "For it is a blessing indeed that you are still alive…something that all of Middle Earth should be grateful for."

I couldn't tell what the expression on Ari's face was, because my eyes were on Legolas. I was completely…wowed. Prince Dickhead said something nice! Touching! And true! For once, I actually could've hugged him. Ari –I mean Almarea- was a blessing, but she's my sister. She's supposed to be like that! I smiled.

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "Almarea…it works," I told him, testing out the name. It definitely fit well.

"Then it is settled," Gandalf said. "Ari is now Almarea." And we all muttered our consent.

Aragorn stepped forward. "I was raised in the House of Elrond…I speak the elven tongue. May I have the privilege of giving a name to you?" He asked me in somewhat of a hesitant manner. I just nodded, a little bit nervous.

Once again his piercing gray gaze met mine, and I knew that it was important I return it. I stared straight back at him, and I almost felt like my soul was getting searched. Maybe it was, I dunno. "Morwen," he said out of nowhere. "For your heart is dark with the cares of the world, and your own hurts…hurts you hide to the world. Not only that, but your hair is like the shadow of midnight, dark against eyes so bright and clear."

I blinked. "Woah," I said in a whisper. "Morwen…Morwen…I like it," I told him, a smile spreading on my face.

"It sounds mysterious," Ari added, having finally gotten her voice back after Legolas' little speech. I grinned at her. "Which is cool," I said with an approving nod.

"Morwen you are then," Gandalf said, and once again the group muttered in agreement.

Slowly, the Company got back into its normal schedule and began to prepare their meal. As they all scrambled to do so, I walked slowly over to Ari –shit…I mean Almarea- and flopped down by her. As I folded my legs and ran a hand through my hair, I looked at her and tried to sort out my thoughts. Almarea…man that sounds weird…looked like she was having the same problem.

"Well," I said at last as I nodded my head and looked up to the trees around me, "That was…fun."


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9  
Ari's POV**

You know, new names aren't much fun most of the time, it's like Tarzan, telling him he's a human after he was raised as a monkey, it's just confusing. Okay, I know, what a TERRIBLE analogy, or whatever the hell it's called, but gimme a break! I've been comatose for God only knows how long, what do you expect, analogistic gold? Is that even a word? That's it, I'm just confused now, and I don't need another headache.

But sometimes, new names can be fun! Especially when they're given to you by the elf of your affections. Which was the case for me, and I even got a spandy-dandy little speech to go with it! I could hear those words a million times a day and never get tired of them, as long as they're said by Prince Legolas of Mirkwood!

"Almarea, meaning blessed," he had said said sweetly to me. "For it is a blessing indeed that you are still alive…something that all of Middle Earth should be grateful for." Can you say AWWW? I didn't, because I was melting because of the way he was looking at me, all admiring and stuff, like I was pretty, which I know I didn't look that great at the time, my hair was tangled and there were twigs and shit in it, and I was still in my slut outfit! Oh fuck, nice way to meet the Fellowship of the Ring, Ari, looking like a bar-room whore! Though somehow I don't think Leggy minded too much. Hee hee hee! Mind out of the gutter, Ari! OUT!

Anyway, my sister and I got new names. Elvish ones, because of our new race. Yippee fucking skippee. I was perfectly happy being a human, damnit! Bitterness over with, I actually like my new name. Almarea. Not as good as Ari, but beats the hell outta my real given name, Ariadne! What the hell is up with my parents, giving all my siblings nice normal names: Maya, Megan, Danny, and Brenton, then stick me with some weirdball Greek name! Personally, I think Mom and Dad were smoking pot when it was time to name me, or maybe, since Blondie, I mean Morwen, and I were born so close together, they were so worn out from taking care of her that they couldn't think of a nice normal name for me! How rude. Fucking rude, I say. But whatever, that's irrelevant, since I'm no longer stuck with that name, I have a funky new elf name, given to me by none other than the hottest male within a billion miles of wherever the hell we are! And my sister's new name is fuckin' awesome too. Morwen…It fits her so perfectly. So 'le hannon' to Aragorn for that one!

I don't think the Fellowship totally hated me. At least, I hope not, cause that would be bad. And Boromir was SO checking Blondie—I mean Morwen—out! Heehee, shame he's gonna die sometime soon, because if you ask me, Boromir's pretty damn hot! Nothing on my Leggy, but still, pretty damn fine. Even though that's coming from me, walking talking hormone, it's still true, Boromir is pretty damned hot! And he wants a piece of my sister! Shame that she doesn't feel the same about him, that'll be a rude reality check. Poor guy. Honestly, Morwen could at least let him have a rendezvous, since he's gonna die! It could be his last wish! Wait, BAD MENTAL IMAGES! BADBADBAD! Mind OUT OF THE GUTTER, DAMNIT!

Damn, I really need to stay away from the gutter, it's a dangerous place for my mind to go. Especially when I'm around Leggy. When my mind is down in the gutter, it's hard to make me come back to reality, plus I can be kinda….dangerous when my mind gets down there. Hee hee hee. But you don't need details!

And man, I seem to be rambling more than usual. Now then, back on subject. So, after the Fellowship decided to let us stay with them, even though Boromir, good-looking as he is, was being a total ass about it, my newly named Elvish sister came and sat next to me. "Well…That was…fun.." she said, looking up at the trees. Thank you very fucking much, Captain Obvious. For a minute, I could only smile dreamily, remembering the way Leggy had looked at me, and then remembering the meaning of my name. Blessed…Hell yeah I was blessed, I had a fucking awesome name and a hot elf! I was living large! Okay, except for the fact that I'd recently been comatose, nearly died, just been dissed for being a woman (elleth, whatever, for being FEMALE!) by a guy who was gonna die soon. Hey, at least I'll survive this whole fucking war! I think. I'd damned well better survive, I have no intention of pulling a Boromir, thank you very fucking much! Plus, if I died, I couldn't stare at Legolas and flirt shamelessly with that amazing hunk of elf at every possible moment!

I finally got my ass out of dreamland a full minute later and replied to my sister, "Of course it was fun.…." Morwen rolled her eyes at me and answered "Since you're all dreamy about your elf in shining fairy shoes, I have a question: When you and Prince Leg-ass get married, does that mean I gotta be nice to him?"

For that, I had to smack her. "MORWEN! You are a complete and total bitch, did you know that?" I said, sticking my tongue out at her, like I did when we were little. Smirking, she shrugged and said "Woof." I simply rolled my eyes and replied in as civil of a tone as I could muster: "Yes, you have to be nice to him. Even though I don't have a snowball's chance in hell with him because I am an infant by this culture's standards! Not fucking fair." Then it was her turn to roll her eyes. "Though infants don't have the vocabulary or appearance of a barroom whore and you have both," she fired back. Oooooh, I gotta admit, that was a burn. "Somehow, I don't think Leggy minds." Oh yeah, go me, good comeback!

And she didn't get a chance to reply, because the members of the Fellowship were done cooking and it was time to eat. And I got the last word, so I win! Nyah. I love to win, I admit it. I'm a competitive person by nature, and I can be a sore loser at times. Which is why it's best to let me win verbal arguments if you know what's good for ya.

We all sat around the fire and ate some kind of…stuff. I have no clue what it was, nor do I think I want to know, as it quite possibly could be meat, which I have forever sworn off for the past ten years, but it was pretty good, actually, even though I would've given anything in the world for a veggie burger, some fries and a Dr. Pepper. I had strategically seated myself between Morwen and Leggy, and I noticed with some amusement that on my sister's other side sat Boromir, who spent the whole meal staring at her. Though I shouldn't be talking, because Legolas and I spent the whole meal staring at each other. Or rather, me staring at him and basking in the glow of being around such a hot elf.

There wasn't much conversation while everyone ate, but that was okay by me, I didn't want to listen to any more discussions on why Morwen and I should or should not continue with the Fellowship to Lothlorien for the simple fact that we could get killed. I mean honestly, who the hell, besides Leggy and Gandalf and Aragorn gave two shits if two brand-new elleths got shot by an arrow or stabbed by a sword or however the hell people die around here?

After everyone finished, Gandalf was the first to speak. "I believe that everyone should get some rest, we must continue on toward Lothlorien in the morning." There were no complaints, everybody simply nodded and retired to their bedrolls, including myself. I was truly exhausted, and I had every right to be, as it was the first time I was able to get up and walk for myself since getting knocked into this alternate reality. So, I climbed obediently in my bedroll and shut my eyes. Before my head even touched the pillow, I was out like a light.

Morning came much too soon for my liking. I was woken up by my sister shaking me by the shoulders and telling me much too cheerily to get up. Let's get one thing straight: I am NOT a morning person, never have been, and never will be. And this was NOT morning, it was still bloody dark! "What the hell?" I muttered groggily. "WAKE UP!" Morwen said, I could tell she was getting irritated, but did I give a damn? No. I wanted to sleep, goddamnit! "Piss off, Maya…" I muttered, forgetting her new name. "Morwen to you, now get up and change out of your slut outfit!" I sat up at this. "What the fuck? And wear WHAT? I am NOT going around a camp full of guys with no clothes on! You're a fucking wanker!" At my defensive attitude, she rolls her eyes and holds up a bundle of clothes, which at closer inspection turned out to be a pair of leggings and a tunic. "Courtesy of Prince Dumbass," my sister said, as I rolled my eyes. "Can I at least keep my shit stomping FMBs?" I asked, beaming at my beloved boots, which laid next to me on the ground. "Sure, just go! There's a brook over there," Morwen said. Damn, impatient, ain't she?

So I went on my merry way to the brook, and looked around to make sure no one else was present, I'm incredibly paranoid, as anyone back home can tell you. Satisfied that the coast was clear, I slid out of my "slut outfit" and into the cool water, washing away days of grime and sickness and dirt. It felt good to wash, though a hot bubble bath with a Smirnoff by my side, some pretty smelling candles, and some good music woulda been appreciated. But alas, no dice.

When I was clean to my satisfaction, I climbed out of the brook and pulled on the clean elf clothes along with my beloved shit-stomping FMBs, and combed my long hair with the comb I'd kept in the pocket of my mini skirt, then checked my reflection in the stream. I noticed that the black streaks in my hair were gone, most likely washed away by the brook, leaving my hair its natural golden blonde shade. My terrible perm had grown out, so now my hair hung straight and long against my face. Of course, I couldn't leave it like that, so I tied it back in a ponytail, checking out my work in the rippling water. And it didn't look bad. In fact, I noted with pride, I looked pretty damned good. Leggy had better appreciate how good I look, especially after nearly dying, I thought with amusement before rushing to meet everyone else.

All heads turned toward me when I entered the encampment, including Leggy, who was staring at me. Not that I minded, unless he was thinking that I looked like a bloody wanker in the elf clothes paired with my FMBs. "WHAT?" I said defensively, looking down at my boots. "These are my shit stomping boots! My FMBs! The best shoes in the world!" By now, Morwen was snickering openly, but the rest of the Fellowship stared blankly at me. Oh shit.

"What are FMBs?" Legolas finally spoke, breaking the awkward silence that had ensued while everyone was staring at me. I couldn't look at my sister, I knew she was laughing her ass off at the question because the person who asked was so ironically the elf of my affections! I find nothing funny about it, personally. "Tell him, Almarea!" Morwen managed to gasp out. Muttering profanities under my breath, I flipped her off. "Not helping." Then I turned back to the elf of my affections, who looked very confused and very, very hot. Hot damn, he is good looking. "Uh…FMB stands for…well, uh…It stands for…." I was stalling and everyone knew it. "Oh fine, but when I scar you for life, don't blame me!" I said defensively, then gave in. "FMB stands for 'fuck-me-boots.' Long story behind the nickname, you don't wanna know, trust me!"

Silence, save for my sister's nearly hysterical laughter. If she doesn't shut up, I'll kill her! Damn, just wait til SHE gets asked an awkward question by the being of HER affections. I'm going to embarrass the hell outta her and see how SHE likes it.

Finally, Leggy spoke, looking torn between laughter and shock at the fact that his notion that I may have had some little bit of innocence had just been shot to hell. "The land from whence you came was strange indeed, for elleths here do not normally speak in such a way." At this, I had to grin. "Yes, but you know I am unlike any other elleth here," I replied, unable to resist a bit of flirting, lowering my eyelids slightly, then tossing a wink his way as Aragorn comes back from… somewhere over the rainbow, I hadn't even noticed his absence, being too busy staring at Legolas and flirting shamelessly at every chance I got, not to mention being embarrassed to death by the elf of my affections.

Anyway, Aragorn came back from wherever he'd gone off to, and spoke up so the whole encampment could hear him: "It is time to journey forth again, brothers. And sisters," he adds, laying eyes upon Morwen and myself. I thought that was pretty considerate of him to include us in his spandy-dandy little speech there, especially considering we were just two hungover, confused chicks that he'd nearly run over with his horse, and even now, we were still just a couple of confused few-day old elleths who were tagging along on a long, important journey just so he could make sure we didn't like go bomb the country or whatever. Not that we could even if we wanted to, but I'm not sure King-O, as Morwen so fondly calls him, knows that.

Then all happiness at being included immediately dissolved when I found out we were to be riding all day and most of the night. Yippee fucking skippee.

Well, one thing's for sure.

I'm gonna be in a fucking lot of pain tomorrow! I want some painkillers and I want them now, dammit!

It's gonna be a loooooong journey. Yippee fucking skippee skadoo.

A/N: What's this? Ally writing her own Author's Note? GASP! Heh, anyway, this chapter is kind of pointless, I admit, but hopefully you had some laughs reading it, because I had a lot of fun writing it. But then again it's 4:50 A.M. and I've been writing all night, so I don't think my brain is exactly functioning very well. Anyway, just wanted to say thanks to all our readers, Ariel and I really appreciate you all taking the time to read our lovely little story here! Keep reviewing and reading, hopefully Ariel will have chapter ten ready soon! Expect some new stories from the dynamic duo as soon as we get off our lazy asses and go start one. Until next chapter, namarie ((farewell)), remember to review!

Happy reading!

-Ally


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10  
Morwen's POV **

That night I wandered the camp, unable to sleep from everything that went on in my mind. Ari of course was out like a light again, and I could tell she was in pain. I was too, but I really didn't feel like showing it. However, I was used to pain in my legs and hips from other sports, and I'd ridden horses a few times that Ari didn't know about, so I knew the best way to recover was stretching out my legs. And by walking, you not only stretch out your legs but you stretch out…well…other sore places. Saddles are uncomfortable, alright!

Although I feel pretty grateful actually. If this hurts for me, I don't even want to IMAGINE what kind of pain the original Fellowship is. Those saddles have GOT to be a major pain on the-

Eurm. Nevermind.

So after I'd walked around, I threw myself down on a rock and looked out to the stars. Apparently I'd been thinking and wandering longer than I thought, because I saw Boromir coming up to my right side. Woah, it was already time for second watch? Well shit, it had to be midnight or something…

"What are you still doing up?" Boromir asked, sitting down beside me and looking a little concerned. I shrugged. "Can't sleep. Kinda sore from the whole saddle thing," I told him nonchalantly, trying to sound as if it was easy for me to handle it. I don't think he bought it.

"Yes, saddles can be hard on those who are not accustomed to them," he said wisely, nodding and looking at my legs sympathetically. Well as long as his eyes didn't go up any farther…I squirmed uncomfortably. Please God, don't let him be THAT much of a pervert! I mean, he was nice and actually slightly handsome –everybody here looksdifferent from the waythey do in the movies- but I'm not really in the mood for a strenuous rendezvous right now. Dude, I just got whacked into Middle Earth! I'm not ready for THAT sort of stuff yet! Boromir had better not be expecting anything just because he's the Steward's son…

I nodded miserably. "Yeah, I noticed. Doesn't it hurt you?" I questioned, trying to keep the conversation on something normal. I hoped he'd catch the drift.

He shook his head. "Not so much anymore, for I've gotten used to the feeling of riding horses. But…I am sorry for the pain you are in." And he really looked it. Aww, that's sweet. He doesn't just see me as a whore to be had as a quickie! Well, I feel a little better now. But only a little.

"Thanks," I told him with a smile. "Makes me feel better that _someone_ gives two shits and actually pays attention."

He was taken aback by my language, but nodded after he'd gotten over it and smiled reassuringly. "How could I not? You and your sister have been through much, especially for two elleths who should be able to be at their home, safe. War is the burden of men." He saw that I was getting ready to kick him in the balls for being sexist, and help up his hand for silence. "I know you wish to be here, but that doesn't mean it is a good idea. Females are not used to this sort of hardship in the way men are. And they should not have to deal with more strain than they already do."

Wow. A dude. With a brain outside of his sexual organs! THERE'S A FIRST! Boromir actually sort of got it! YAY! I could've hugged him. But of course I didn't, because that might make him think he could do other...things. Eep! "Woah Boromir…that's really…smart of you. Thanks!" I told him, grinning widely. He nodded and smiled in acknowledgment.

"It isn't any trouble, Lady Morwen," he told me.

I smacked him on the arm. "Enough with the Lady shit, I'm not anyone special. Just…Morwen, you dig?"

He considered this. "Very well, I shall call you Morwen. But…how can you say you are not anything special? You're going along with a Fellowship consisting of all men. And coping very well," he added appreciatively, looking me up and down. Although I initially felt uncomfortable under his gaze, a part of me felt a little smug. It's not like I haven't been looked at that way before, cause I have. 'Cause I am the barroom whore of the century. Ari –DAMN IT, I mean Almarea- jokes about being a slut, like me. But she hasn't actually…ahem…with lots of men. I've been ina shitload ofrelationships. And they never work out. Because just when I get slightly comfortable with a man, another ten guys are looking at me, and I find I like the looks of them right back.

In a nutshell? Long term relationships and me don't mix, because I'm a whore. Can you say sex kitten? Sheesh.

Boromir watched me as I blushed deeply. "Eurm…well…thank you," I whispered, looking to the ground. He put his hand under my chin and brought my head up. "It was nothing," he muttered to me.

For a minute I looked at him, and returned his gaze. I'd done stuff like that a million times before. But never before had I needed to deal with the knowledge that the guy in front of me would die soon. Slowly I stood up. "Goodnight Boromir," I said in a soft but firm voice. And without another word I strode away.

Damn it. A guy who's as good as dead is hitting on me! SHIT!

* * *

After Eru knows how long, I woke up to find myself in my bedroll, awake after everyone else for a change. Aragorn was kneeling beside me, looking a bit concerned. 

"Wha-? Was' happenin'? Was' goin' on?" I said, my peech slurred by weariness and…oh, _ouch. _Was that pain in my stomach? And head? And throat? And...urgh, I did _not_ feel good.

"Morwen? It is morning…I have been trying to wake you up for nearly ten minutes. You were mumbling in your sleep," Aragorn explained, his gray eyes dark with something akin to fear. "For a moment I did not know if you were even conscious…how do you feel?"

How did I feel? How did IFUCKING WELLfeel? "I feel like fucking shit," I choked, coughing as my sentence ended. Now looking officially alarmed, King-O put his hand to my forehead, and his eyes widened. "You are burning with fever," he muttered, looking straight at me.

Considering the fact that I was sweating, I didn't really find that to be new information. "Thank you Captain Fucking Obvious," I said, my normally rich voice cracking. I coughed again.

He took my hand in his, pressing his palms against my skin. "Where are you in pain?" He asked, and I could almost see the Healer wheels turning in his head.That's what you get when you raise a human in the House of Elrond. (Or, as I so fondly think of him, Agent Smith-rond! Heehee.)

"Everywhere," I choked to him. "My throat, my chest, and I'm kinda nauseated from the pain," I admitted. Then I winced. "And I'm getting a serious fucking headache. How'd this fucked-up-shit happen so fast?" I asked, though it was sort of a rhetorical question. Aragorn merely shrugged. "I have no idea, but…you will have to ride with me again," he informed me, as he took my hand and helped me to my feet.

I sighed, not in the mood to argue. "Can I just dunk my head in the water real quick?" I asked, hating the sound of my scratchy voice. He merely nodded, before walking off to Gandalf. I assume he was going to tell him of my condition.

I staggered off to the brook, my coordination shot to hell. Right about then, I felt like damning the Valar and Eru for being so damn mean. As if getting whacked into this fucking hellhole wasn't enough, now I have to deal with being sick. Effing great.

As I'd said, when I reached the brook I literally dunked my head into it, not bothering to take off my over-tunic or anything like that. For as long as I could, I held my head under the cool water, and enjoyed the sensation of being clean and cold. But then I brought my head up out of the water, reminding myself that Almarea wouldn't be pleased if I drowned myself. For a minute I swayed, then I got my feet planted, and made my way back towards camp.

Guys, whatever your parents tell you about getting hooked on painkillers and other drugs, they're _wrong. _Because right then, Aspirin or Tylenol sounded damn good. I wanted drugs, dammit! Real, solid, dependable, over-the-counter, medicated goodness!

Thinking of that, I blinked rapidly and grinned. "But no needles in the eyes," I said stupidly. "I don't like the doctors with the needles in the eyes."

Ah, good old Pillz-e the Squirrel. Remind me to go to IllWillPress,if and when they get computers in Middle Earth. 'Cause those cartoons are fucking hilarious. Profane, over-medicated squirrels are a good way to cheer you up.

As I repeated the lines of pretty much every Foamy cartoon I had ever seen, the pain in my ankle added to the pain I felt everywhere else. If I hadn't been focusing on other things, it would have over-whelmed me.

Finally, after some unknown stretch of time, I reached the camp again. Without bothering to think of or look at anyone else, I plopped down on the spot where my bedroll had been previously, and tried to put on my boots.

"Woah dude," I said aloud. I halted my movements and looked at the boots in my hand with wide eyes. I had realized that I walked around barefoot this whole time."Like…woah…I went around the place-thing without my boots on 'till now…shit…" I took one of my feet in my hands, and looked at the sole of it.

I was so focused on everything else, I hadn't noticed little splinters of wood getting imbedded in the bottom of my feet. Ouch, blood. Ouch, wounds. Ouch, infection.

"Ouch….shit," I said in that crackwhore speak. I heard a voice somewhere above my head, and when I looked blearily up I figured it was Gandalf, since I could see a long white blob -that I think was a beard- near the top of the bigger blob -which I assumed was a body- that I assumed was a human being, or something of the sort. Lots of assuming there, considering I couldn't actually see.

"Say what?" I muttered, squinting at him and trying to get my vision to clear.

Gandalf sighed and repeated his question. "Are you ready to go on?"

I swayed dangerously as I tried to stand, before Aragorn knelt and put his arm around my waist, supporting me as he hoisted me up to my feet. "Where we goin'?" I questioned. "Are we goin' back to Kansas? 'Cause I don't think we're in Kansas anymore…"

Only Almarea understood my joke, but I think she was too shit-fucking-scared out of her mind to laugh at that point.

Gandalf frowned, or at least I think he did. "What is this 'Kansas' you speak of?"

"Ahh Gandalf," I said wisely, patting him on the shoulder. "I can't describe, it, 'cause there's no place like home. Waaaait…who's got my ruby red slippers?"

Have I mentioned I watched Wizard of Oz a lot when I was a kid? Found the flying monkeys especially amusing.

Gandalf took my chin in his hand and studied me. "You are not well," he said quietly, the same sort of fear I had seen in Aragorn's eyes sparking up in his.

"No shit, Sherlock," I muttered under my breath, swaying despite Aragorn's hold on my waist. I gave another cough, turning my head away from his so I wouldn't get him all germ-y and gross and sick. Because trust me, I didn't want the smartest, most experienced and powerful person in the Fellowship getting sick with some killer illness. An illness that turns you into a delusional -but really quite chipper- crackwhore.

I then heard Aragorn speak. "She must ride with me today. If she goes on her own, surely she will die."

Completely gone by that point, I murmured in an almost inaudible voice, "Avoiding the death is good, death is good to avoid…" More Pillz-E quoting, if you hadn't noticed.

The rest of the day is blank, as I pretty much lost my vision to whatever fucked-up illness I'd been given.

Isn't Middle Earth lovely?

Yeah…I thought not.


	13. Author's Note

**A/N: Sorry guys, not a chapter. **

This is Ariel, speaking for both Angsty Elf Twins. I'm so sorry we haven't updated in forever, but Ally and I both have our own stories (Yes, _stories_, as in more than one)that we're working on, as well as the pressure of schoolwork. Personal matters as well.

And now, what's worse, Ally isn't going to be able to access her computer for a little while more, so until she writes her chapter, I'm stuck.

We'll try to get our asses in gear soon.

Once again, I apologize for the delay!

-Ariel


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